Bruiser

Well the day had to come. Eventually my little guy would wiggle hard enough to get away from us and get himself hurt. Up to now, his only actual owies (a technical term) were from vaccinations, and they don't even count, really. But yesterday he lurched in an unexpected direction and bumped his forhead on the coffee table, just a light tap (I thought), and the screaming fit was cut short by a nursing session. But he must have inherited easily-bruised skin from me, because there's a bit of a shiner there on his right eyebrow.

If anyone asks, we'll tell them the other guy looks much worse.

The other development of the weekend isn't particularly fun either. We tried formula for the first time on Saturday night - I was planning on trying to breastfeed in the mornings and evenings, and move to formula the rest of the time. So I thought that it would be good to start the transition with some cereal, made with formula rather than breastmilk.

Usually when we feed him something he didn't like he makes faces and, if he is really dead set against the food (green beans are the only thing he has really hated) he'll swallow the first bite and refuse to take any more. However, rather than risking being poisoned by that first bite of cereal-with-formula, he retched, coughed, and tried in any way possible to get the wretched stuff as far from him as possible. I eventually coaxed him into eating 3 or 4 bites total, but none of them stayed in his mouth, and after my betrayal I had to smooth over the relationship with some old-fashioned nursing.

Of course, he hated bananas at first too, (and really, most of the other food we've given has been suspect initially). So we'll try again. But maybe not until next weekend.

The good news - which I'm almost afraid to say for fear of jinxing it - is that he has been sleeping through the night pretty consistently.

Below, apparently SA's mother didn't wipe his face properly after an enjoyable repast of sweet potatoes.